


Friendly Conversation

by tiny-freakin-head (Hobbitfing)



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Français | French, Gen, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbitfing/pseuds/tiny-freakin-head
Summary: Scout overhears a Spy having a quiet chat with a friend. Sniper realizes it's not so friendly after all.





	Friendly Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> (Hover for translations)

The public—well, mercenary exclusive; outsiders weren’t exactly welcome—telephone was rarely used. Sniper preferred to call his parents from payphones, Spy (presumably) had a secret telephone line installed somewhere in the base, Heavy preferred writing and receiving letters from his family, Engineer had no family left to speak of—or to. No one was sure how Demo communicated with his mother—Scout had proposed psychic waves, and no one had really denied his theory. No one had ever seen Soldier call anyone but his favourite tomato soup manufacturer when they started importing tomatoes from Mexico. Pyro occasionally made prank calls that were completely indecipherable to the person on the other end, but never failed to leave them in gales of muffled laughter. Medic occasionally called his cousin, but mostly they communicated by mail as well.

Scout usually had the phone to himself, and the rec room where it was located was usually empty in the afternoons. He claimed that he only called his mother once a week, “ _Twice, tops,_ ” but in reality it was closer to every second or third day. He expected to have—and usually found—the phone to himself.

Today he was surprised to see Spy sitting in the stained, swaybacked chair Scout had dragged in at some point—the only one no one else had reclaimed from him. He was smoking, which wasn’t surprising, and appeared to be having a friendly conversation in his native French.

Scout motioned to the door, silently asking if Spy wanted him to leave, but the assassin shook his head. He motioned for Scout to wait, leaving a trail of smoke behind the path his hand followed.

Spy continued his conversation, with a placid smile on his face as he spoke calmly. He sounded surprisingly friendly. “ _Si t’appelez cette ligne à nouveau, je vais devoir te tuer. Et si je dois m’enfuir pour te tuer, je vais te fair souffrir._ ”

Settling himself on the saggy couch in front of the out-of-date TV set—Soldier had destroyed the colour TV Engineer had purchased, calling it a commie conspiracy—Scout couldn’t help a little grin. It was nice to see Spy talking to a friend, out in the open, rather than just being a secretive dick all the time.

“ _Si cela ne passe pas par votre crâne épais, peut-être que cela fonctionnera; je sais où tu vivez, je sais qui est votre famille. Ne me cause pas de problèmes encore, comprenez-vous?”_ Spy gave Scout a raised eyebrow, offering him a cigarette as he stubbed out the end of his and lit up a new one. It was rare that he offered a cigarette—or anything for that matter—to the runner.

Scout’s eyes lit up, and he happily took the offered smoke. Spy must be talking to a really good friend, if he was in such a great mood! Scout put the cigarette between his lips before he realized Spy hadn’t lit it, and his cheeks flushed. He didn’t want to ask Spy to do it now, especially while he was on the phone, and that offered a convenient excuse to not actually have to smoke it. He was getting better at controlling his hacking coughs whenever he smoked, he really was, but he still preferred to practice in private. He just didn’t feel like it today.

He jumped up from the couch—Sniper! Sniper loved to smoke almost as much as Spy, _and_ he spoke French. He’d be able to understand what Spy was saying. Honestly, Scout was getting a little bored listening to half of a conversation he couldn’t understand. He hurried off to Sniper’s camper.

He ran into Sniper just coming into the base. He looked sleepy, and had probably just woken up from a nap in his hammock. “Hey mate, where’s the fire?” Scout inexplicably had a cigarette with him.

Scout laughed. “That’s kinda what I was gonna ask you.”

“Oh, need a light?” Sniper fished out his lighter, an old worn thing with a crocodile engraved on the side. He lit it, waiting for Scout to light his cigarette.

“Ummm...yeah, I just...y’know...stole this one from Spy! For you!”

“You stole it?” Sniper looked disbelieving. “Sure,” he took it, lighting it. Spy’s cigarettes weren’t his favourite, but they were fine. Sniper wasn’t exactly picky. “Why’re you stealing from him?”

Handing over the cigarette, Scout scratched the back of his neck, a sure sign that he was lying. “’Cause, it was easy. ...That’s not the point. He’s talking to a friend. On the phone. In the rec room. In French. I want you to tell me what he’s saying!”

“A friend?” That sounded strange and unlikely. “Alright, but he might switch to Russian or something if I go in there.”

“I know, I thought it was weird too. Hey! There’s a window. You’re pretty quiet, and you can read lips, right?”

“I don’t know if I want to spy on a Spy, but I’ll go in there with you and listen if he keeps talking.” Sniper headed to the rec room, expecting Scout to follow after him.

Scout ran ahead of his teammate, putting up an arm to block Sniper. “Woah woah woah. He’ll _definitely_ switch languages if you just go walking in, and then we’ll have to get Medic—or Heavy, and Heavy will be all ‘Leetle man should not be spying on Spy, doh ho ho’ and he’ll ruin everything.” He thought for a moment. “Let me go in first, give me a few minutes, then you come in and sit somewhere weird like you’re gonna have a nap.”

“Fine, fine. But he might be done talking by now,” Sniper shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever...” Scout danced away from Sniper with a casual wave, forcing himself to a slow trot when he re-entered the rec room. He sat on the couch, as before, ears pricked for Spy’s conversation. He _thought_ it was still French, but all that foreign-talk kinda sounded the same to him. He tried to calm down, look like he was just waiting to use the phone again while he waited for Sniper. Hopefully the Australian wouldn’t blow the whole thing! Spy still looked relaxed and comfortable, his voice a low, friendly murmur.

Sniper came in and slouched on one of the armchairs, putting his feet up over the side and starting to put his hat over his face. When he heard what Spy was saying he sat bolt upright.

“ _Non, ferme la bouche, je ne veux pas t’écouter. T’es completement débile. T’as encore une chance de vivre. Faites ce que je dis et disparaissez avant que je te disparaître_.”

Though his tone was friendly and almost sweet, his words were anything but. They were threats and insults.

Watching Sniper’s reaction, Scout cocked his head to the side like a bemused puppy. “What’s he saying?” he asked in what passed as a whisper for Scout.

“Threatening to murder someone and insulting them.” Sniper looked incredulous.

Spy cleared his throat, looking at them both pointedly as he hung up the phone.

“What?” Scout laughed, “no he’s not. He’s right, you do suck at French.”

“ _Non_ , he was correct,” Spy smirked. “I just didn’t want you to catch on, _petit_.”

“I was watching you the whole time!” Scout protested, frowning at Spy and apparently forgetting the time he’d spent fetching Sniper. “There’s no way you were saying all that with that look on your face and that...voice. If you were saying stuff like that you’d sound mad, or...something! You sounded like you were...I dunno...ordering groceries or gossiping or somethin’!”

“ _Oui_ , that was the point.” Spy said dryly.

“This wasn’t worth the cigarette, mate,” Sniper scolded Scout.

Scout stood with arms akimbo, starting incredulously between the two of them. “Why would you,” he pointed at Spy, “bother pretendin’ with me, ’specially ’cause you know I can’t speak French? And you,” pointing at Sniper now, “it was totally worth the cigarette! It’s not my fault you suck at French.”

“I’m bloody fluent!”

“Your French is passable,” Spy corrected. “And I knew I wouldn’t be long. I thought you might as well wait to speak to your mother and if you heard me threatening someone you’d likely leave.”

Ignoring the exchange with Sniper, Scout snorted. “Why would that make me leave? That’d probably make me _stay_ , rather than listening to a boring-ass conversation...you’re really creepy, y’know that?”

“How is that creepy? I only wanted to hide the nature of my conversation. And of course, you had to go find the only other French speaker here,” he scowled.

Scout smirked. “Yeah. I did. And you’re creepy because you were threatening a guy and you sounded totally normal!”

“Yes, like I am threatening you now. If you do that again, I’ll murder you,” he said, with a gentle smile, taking his jacket from over the back of the chair and leaving.

**Author's Note:**

> (We overheard a woman having a very calm conversation in French, with some very not-calm words thrown in, and it made us think of Spy)


End file.
